Hunting
Dear Wadsworth,
I have finally been sprung from the dank hellscape they dignify with the name “dungeon.” Now I’m sat in my chambers, contemplating scaling the castle walls for amusement.
I overheard the guards speaking, and it seems tonight might be our best chance of sneaking out to search the woods for whoever was dragged out through the tunnels that night.
Unlike our esteemed headmaster, I do not believe you invented that scenario, and I worry we may have been wrong about Ileana being involved, criminally. She may very well be another victim, but there’s only one way we can be sure.
If you do not hear any more from me, it’s because I am sneaking through corridors, en route to your chambers.
Ever yours,
Cresswell
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